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by Side_effect_of_the_meds



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-17 02:42:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19944808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Side_effect_of_the_meds/pseuds/Side_effect_of_the_meds
Summary: feel like the fandom collectively decided to forget about the fact that Lola Malcolm low-key tried to get with Neil in the trunk of the police car. But you know, I’mma bring it up anyways. She had said that Neil would be her type if only he was just a bit older and comments about how much he looks like his father. All that essentially implies that Nathan is her type… Has- has Lola been hitting on Nathan? Has she been with Nathan before? If you care to venture down that rabbit hole, the story of Natalie Ann Wesninski is below.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, I'm Anna and this is my first fic! I know it's incredibly obvious with my immature writing style and horrible organization skills. I'll get better as I keep writing (I hope). If you've got any tips please let me know in the comments. I only spent a few days working on it and it's largely unedited so.... hah. Yeah. I hope you enjoy it anyways. Thanks so much!

Home was not a place Natalie had ever really known. Natalie was six years old, but even she knew that the Wesninski house was not home. It was a place for shady deals and dirty business. It was a place with locks on every door and window. Locks might be enough to contain the people inside, but it did nothing to contain their screams. Natalie had found herself waking to the screams of men in her father’s basement no less than a dozen times. More often though, she woke to the smell of blood and sweat as her father came to check that she’d gone to sleep. Through the thin walls of her room, she could hear her mother drunkenly arguing with her brother as they headed to their rooms.

Some nights her father caught her awake late at night. When he did, his face would split into a manic grin as he stalked into her room. He’d pick her up and heft her over his shoulders despite her frenzied screams and the unending rain of blows she rained down on his back. He’d haul her into the basement where the others are waiting. Natalie knew better than to run once she was in the basement. Instead, she tried to slow her breathing enough to take in a proper breath. She sat in the chair they set in the corner for her while the adults began the night’s work.

Men screamed as her father carved the flesh from their bones and slit their tendons to stop them from running. Almost always, her mother was perched on the counter by the sink. Natalie watched her mother laugh at the men in their pain. The smell of blood and peroxide mixing together in the air made her head spin. All she could do was listen to the curses her father threw at the men beneath his blade and the cheers of his goons.

Saturday mornings always felt like a dream. Much of her parents' work was done on Friday night, so they’d sleep in the next morning. One morning, Natalie crept down the stairs to watch t.v. only to find her father sitting on the couch. She would never forget the sight of him that morning. Blood plastered bits of his hair to his face. He stared at the black t.v. screen as if he could see something in it. Upon further inspection, she saw the hollow look in her father’s eyes and the sagging of his shoulders.

“Dad?” she whispered. He rocketed out of his seat, pointing a knife at her. Natalie froze. It took her father a few minutes to come back to himself and lower the knife.

“Natalie,” he said, more to himself than to her. He handed her the remote and laid down on the couch. When he curled up, it created a neat little space between his legs and the back of the couch. It was just big enough for Natalie so she climbed in. She flipped through the channels until she found Spongebob. “Is that all you watch?” he asked.

“No.” The show filled the silence between the two of them. Natalie had just thought her father had fallen asleep when he said something.

“He used to like Spongebob too.”

“Who?”

“Nathaniel.”

“Who’s Nathani-” Natalie stopped short when she realized her father had fallen asleep.

All of that was two years ago. A hot shower and quick breakfast later, her father had kissed Natalie goodbye. He promised to be back in no less than a week. Obviously, he wasn’t back. Instead, he had gotten himself thrown in jail. With her father gone, her mother took his place. She kept doing… whatever it was her father did for a living. Every few nights a new man would appear in the basement and every few nights, Natalie was escorted down to watch. Her mother tried to get Natalie to participate.

“Lola,” Uncle Romero warned. “You know remember what happened when we tried to teach the last one.”

“But Natalie’s mine!” her mother howled. Patrick stepped in front of Natalie, blocking her from her mother’s line of view. Whatever look Patrick had sent her mother was enough to shut her up. Her mother turned her attention back to the man chained to the wall. She took her anger out on him while Patrick hauled Natalie to her feet. He drove her to the corner store and bought her ice-cream. Natalie sat on the curb eating while Patrick told her stories about his life before he’d joined her father.

“Who’s Nathaniel?” Natalie blurted out in the middle of one of Patrick’s stories. Patrick went silent for a while.

“Where did you hear that name?” Patrick’s voice was low and dangerous. One of his hands rested on the back of Natalie’s neck, a threat.

“Dad. Dad said it before he left.” The tension eased out of Patrick’s shoulders as he let his hand fall from her neck. He stared blankly at the bottom of his ice-cream container as if it held the answer to her question.

“Your brother,” Patrick finally replied. Natalie dropped her pint, but she was too shocked to notice. Slowly, Patrick explained why Nathan had gone to Seattle.

“Was he going to bring Nathaniel back?” she asked.

“Sort of,” Patrick said.

“Was Dad going to take him to the basement?” Patrick’s silence was all the answer she needed. They sat there for a while until Patrick decided it was time to take Natalie home. She was silent on the car ride home. Patrick turned the radio on to ease the tense silence. The sports radio was on.

“Neil Josten steals the ball from Leverett. She’s right on his tail! Oh, but this fox is fast. Faster than any I’ve ever seen. He shoots… HE SCORES!” The announcers were in an uproar. The car rolled to a stop at a traffic light. Patrick made to turn off the radio, but Natalie cried out in protest. Patrick turned a look on Natalie. She shrunk back into her seat.

“Please?” she whispered. Patrick sighed.

“You’re father’s coming home soon. Don’t you dare let him catch you watching any of this, you hear me? Your mother too. In fact, don’t let anyone catch you watching this. They’ll have both your head and mine if they do.”

“Nathaniel?” she asked.

“Nathaniel,” he replied. Knowing that was enough. Natalie never missed a single exy game after that. She was there to watch every impossible pass, every violent check, and every last-second goal. With every passing day, Natalie’s rabid love for exy grew. She loved the pounding of feet on the court and the cheers of the fans. She loved the crack of racquets hitting one another and the buzzing of the goal. Above all else, she loved Neil Josten.

Neil Josten was a monster. He had to be. No human could possibly run so fast or be so smart. There definitely was no human quite so fearless either. There was something else about him, too that she couldn’t place. She paused in the middle of one of the post-game sessions to study his face. Natalie’s father had auburn hair and ice-blue eyes. Neil Josten's was jet black and he had dark brown eyes, but there was something in his smile that reminded her of her father. A shriek and the clattering of plates from behind caused her to spin around. Natalie’s mother stood there, eyes blown wide with a plate of milk and cookies at her feet. Just behind her stood Patrick. The look on his face was one of pure horror. _They’ll have both your head and mine if they do._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, you decided to keep going. Really? Thank you. The rest of the chapters are a lot shorter, but I'mma try to have em all up soon so at the very least you don't have to wait.

Natalie’s mother had hit her more than once, but this was something else. Her mother grabbed her by her hair and dragged her into the basement. She chased Uncle Romero and Jackson out of the basement, slamming the door in Patrick’s face. Natalie screamed and cried as her mother ripped her shirt off and shackled her to the wall. Her mother grabbed a riding crop from a hook. Natalie howled and tugged at her restraints. There was no use. They were bolted to the wall. She watched her mother raise the riding crop through the blurry screen of her tears. The crack of it against her skin sent pain coursing through her veins. Her mother had never hit her with anything other than a wooden spoon or her bare hands. The riding crop was a whole new world of pain. There was nothing she could do as her mother beat her within an inch of her life. 

Natalie barely registered the cracking noise in the distant. Her father’s men poured into the basement and rushed her mother. They held her down while they stuck her with a needle. Patrick undid the restraints on Natalie ’s wrists and ankles. He rushed her back up to her room and set her down on the bed. 

“I told you not to let her catch you,” he said. Natalie drifted off despite the sting of antiseptic all over her body. 

Natalie woke to find her mother holding tight to her hand. Yanking it away woke her mother. 

“Baby-” she started, but Natalie didn’t wait to hear the rest. Natalie drew back and fell out of her bed entirely. The fall landed her on more than one bruise and she cried out. Her mother rounded the bed and reached out to pick her up. Natalie didn’t remember calling out to him, but suddenly Patrick was pulling her mother away from her. Uncle Romero appeared in his place and helped her back onto the bed. 

“Shhhh,” he cooed once she’d settled back into her sheets. “We’ll talk about this later, alright?” Natalie nodded dumbly. She fell asleep almost immediately after he left. 

The next time she woke, she could hear her mother’s voice on the other side of the wall. 

“It’s him! Dyed his hair black and wearing contacts, I’m certain.” There was a pause and Natalie realized that her mother was on the phone. “Alright. Alright. Okay. How about a little birthday present, hmm?” Another long pause. Then her mother laughed. “Definitely. Alright, bye.” The door to Natalie’s room opened and her mother stepped inside. “You,” she said with a bright smile, “have just saved me a lot of trouble. Your father is quite pleased.” 

Natalie didn’t know what she’d done or what exactly had happened, but she was uneasy. After the phone call, Natalie was allowed to watch exy openly. She didn’t know what had caused the change of heart, but she tried to enjoy it. Her mother began joining her to watch the Foxes’ games. She seemed to have taken a great deal of interest in Neil Josten. In fact, so had the rest of her father’s men. It wasn’t until Neil’s first game after winter break that Natalie understood why. When Neil Josten stepped into the camera’s view, he came with auburn hair and ice-blue eyes. 

“Nathaniel,” she whispered. She pressed a hand to his cheek as she stared dumbfounded at him. 

“Nathaniel,” Patrick said. Tears slid slowly down her face. She watched him walk out to court like he owned the place. Neil Josten looked like he feared nothing.  _ If only he knew, _ she thought.  _ If only he knew Dad was coming home soon.  _


	3. Chapter 3

On March 1st, Nathan Wesninski returned home. Natalie had been sitting in the upstairs den staring blankly at the backyard.  _ Did he ever play in the backyard?  _ she wondered. Strong arms wrapping around her yanked her from her thoughts. 

“Nattie!” her father cried. Natalie twisted in his grip to see his face. Her blood ran cold when she caught sight of his face. His hair had grown out and flopped over one of his eyes. It did nothing to hide the cruel light dancing in it. A manic grin split his face. He peppered her face with kisses, his stubble scrubbing her face raw. “Oh, Nattie, I’d begun to think you were just as much a disappointment as your brother. It seems you’re not quite as useless as I’d thought. Mommy told me you’d found Nathaniel. Well done, sweets! I’ve brought you some presents for your hard work. Wish I could stay,” he said, setting her down, “but I’ve got to plan your brother’s welcome party!” Laughter rang through the halls. The cruel sound made Natalie ’s chest clench.  _ What have I done?  _

Knives. Her father had bought her a set of knives. Four throwing knives, a butterfly knife, and a sleek stiletto knife with a seven-inch blade. There was a second box beside the one she had just opened. She knew what it was before she even opened it. That didn’t stop her stomach from lurching when the lid fell away. The silver blade glinted in the sunlight, a sharp contrast to the red velvet it rested in. With shaking hands she lifted it. She saw her reflection in the cleaver’s blade. 

Natalie avoided mirrors like a plague. Looking at her mother was painful enough. All of Natalie's features had been inherited from her mother. High cheekbones, a narrow nose, thin lips, and the barest hint of freckles. To know that she looked just like her mother on the outside, made Natalie wonder about what might lie beneath the surface. Would she grow up to be just as cruel and conniving as her mother? Would she too make a living cutting people open as she laughed at her pain? There was only one feature that Natalie had inherited from her father. Staring into the blade, they were the only thing she could see. Ice blue eyes stared back at Natalie. It took everything she had to stop herself from carving them out of her skull right then and there. Instead, she set the cleaver back into its box and gathered her ‘presents’. Gears spun wildly in her head on her way to her room. She had eight days until the party. Pieces of a plan were already forming in her head. At midnight, she slid the little flip phone her father insisted she carry out of a drawer in her nightstand. With shaking fingers she dialed the number of a man she’d never met. 

Natalie counted down the days until March 9th. Every passing day set her further on edge. She did her best to hide it, but nothing got past her father. Two days in, he confronted her about it. 

“Do you want in on the festivities?” he asked. Natalie froze. The two of them were sitting on a park bench. Her mother and uncle were playing on the swings. Parents herded their kids out of the park. They did their best not to look like they were running away, but Natalie had grown used to people scurrying away whenever the Wesninskis got close. 

“What?”

“You’ve been on edge since I announced you’re brother’s welcome party.” He said it as if he really was welcoming his son home. Natalie guessed that he was, just in his own twisted way. “I spoke to Patrick earlier. Said you killed a dog with a bread knife just a week before I could get back. God, I wish I’d been there to see it.” Her father smiled at her. She was taken aback by the sincerity in his smile. Pride thawed his icy eyes. “You could show me what you’ve learned these last two years. Maybe even teach Nathaniel a thing or two. He tilted his head back and roared with laughter. 

“No,” she whispered. 

“Afraid of a little party?” he asked.

“Can I meet him?” she finally replied.

“Sure.”

“I’ll leave before… the party starts.” The words burned like acid when she finally forced them out. Her father let out a breathy laugh but agreed anyways. 

“This is the last time I’ll let you get away with this, understand?” Natalie nodded stiffly. Despite her mother’s endless stream of chatter and attempts to draw her into conversation, Natalie didn’t speak again for the rest of the week.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's here, my guys! Neil Josten is finally here. There are mild descriptions of violence in this one and I think that's it. So... enjoy!

On March 9th, Natalie let Patrick lead her down the steps of the basement. A single uncovered bulb lit the room. Leaning against the wall was a boy with hair the color of dried blood. Blood caked his face. Newly burned skin peeled on one of his cheeks as well.  _ Mother _ , Natalie thought to herself. 

“He’ll be out a little longer,” Patrick said. She felt his eyes on him as she walked towards her brother’s sagging form. She knelt before him and brushed a feather-light kiss to the burn marks. 

“Natalie Ann,” her mother crooned in a voice so sweet Natalie could feel practically feel her teeth rotting. She heard the warning in the voice and backed away. She stood in the corner as her mother took up a post on a chair, waiting for the boy to wake. Patrick turned and left. He spared Natalie a somber look before leaving her there with her mother. It was only another ten minutes before her brother began to stir. Natalie carefully slunk out of the room. Her mother was too focused on Nathaniel to notice. 

“He’s up,” Nathan said. He pet Natalie’s head as he and Patrick passed and disappeared into the basement. She heard the door bang shut behind them. Natalie had sat through a documentary of the French Revolution with her Uncle Romero a while ago. The sound of the trapdoor banging shut reminded her eerily of the thud of a guillotine. It wasn’t long before the screaming began. Pleas broken by sobs drifted up from the basement. Tears sprung to Natalie’s eyes. She ran up to her room and threw the door open. She tore through her closet until she found the mahogany box she was looking for. She brought it out into her room and sat beside the window. Undoing the latch, she let the cover fall away. Her fingers were steady as they closed around the handle. In the pale silver, she saw no longer saw her father’s eyes staring up at her. The eyes staring back at her were fierce and fearless. They were her brother’s eyes. 

Silently, Natalie padded through the house. Or at least her body did. Natalie felt as if she was watching a movie through another person’s eyes. She watched as she crept towards the back door. She heard the locks snick open. The door opened and then her body was running barefoot through the grass. Natalie watched as her body rounded the house and ran right into a man. Steely gray eyes looked down at her. Rough hands pulled her away. 

“Where is he?” Natalie felt her consciousness drawn back into her body by the horrible smell of alcohol. 

“Basement,” she said. The man turned around and motioned to the people around him. “Wait!” Natalie called. The man turned to look at her, an eyebrow raised. “I want to do it.” 

“No.” 

“Please! You don’t understand,” she begged. Tears flowed down her face. “You don’t know what he’s done to me.” Nathan had been all smiles and laughter this week, but before? More often than not, it was his hands that did the talking. He raised them at her when she was too loud. He raised them at her when she was too quiet. He raised them at her when things started to fall apart and when they went well. His hands weren’t the only things he’d punished her with. Natalie was seven years old today and there was barely an inch of unmarred skin left on her body. Scars raced up and down her torso. Scars that no seven year old should ever have. Scars that no one should ever have. But none of that mattered. Six feet beneath them, her brother was beneath Nathan’s blade. She had seen the older scars that raced across his body and she knew they’d all been the work of Nathan in some way or the other. She had seen the cuts and burns that had recently torn up his skin and she knew them to be Lola’s handiwork. Natalie would never let Nathan and Lola hurt anyone ever again. Maybe the man saw some flicker of it in her eyes because he waved the men holding Natalie away. 

“When the guns stop, you come in, alright?” Natalie nodded. Again Natalie felt like she was watching a movie instead of starring in it. When the gunfire stopped a man waved her forward. She descended the steps into the basement. Jackson, Romero, Patrick, and Lola all lay in pools of blood. 

“Natalie,” her father hissed. “What is the meaning of-” he stopped at the sight of her cleaver. A wild smile spilt his face. Natalie was vaguely aware that she had raised her hand. His crazed, cruel laugh was cut short as she embedded the cleaver in her father’s chest. A strangled cry came from the corner. Nathaniel was sitting there with his hands clamped tightly over his mouth. Natalie felt her hand fall away from the handle. 

“Neil,” she cried softly. She stumbled towards him but stopped short. Neil had flinched hard when she’d started towards him and curled tighter into himself. 

“Bloody hell, Nathaniel?” the man asked. Neil turned to the sound of his voice without taking his eyes off Natalie. A short conversation ensued between the two. Finally, the man turned to look at Natalie. “I owe you one, love.” 

“Who- who is she?” Neil asked. 

“She’s the one that made the call. We wouldn’ta found you without ‘er,” the man replied. 

“No.  **_Who_ ** is she?” A heavy silence descended upon the three of them. Natalie felt as though her chest was closing up. 

Finally, the man scrubbed a hand across his face and answered, ”Lola’s daughter.” Natalie heard Neil’s sharp breath. “And your sister.” Neil looked like he was going to pass out. Natalie wanted to believe it was from the blood loss. 

“Watch ‘im til they get here, kid,” the man told her. “We’ll come fer you two later.” The man called out to his people and they emptied out of the basement, leaving Natalie and Neil alone in the soft glow of the single bulb. Ten endless minutes passed. Natalie still wasn’t entirely there. She didn’t think Neil was either. They sat in silence, trying to comprehend all the things that had happened. Natalie wasn’t ready to deal with all of it. Instead, she closed her eyes. The darkness swallowed her readily. 

Natalie didn’t remember much about the things that happened next. She knew she’d been in the hospital for a while. She also knew that when she’d first woken there, Neil had been sleeping handcuffed to a chair at the foot of her bed. She knew they’d gone to a hotel and a lot of older kids had been there.  **_That_ ** _ is a welcome party,  _ Natalie had thought as she heard them all cry out at the return of Neil. She watched a small blond man race up to Neil, handcuffed to a much older man. She saw the love the small man had for her brother and it wrenched at her heart. She’d only ever seen people look at each other like that in movies. When Natalie had walked into the room to tell Neil they had to leave the kids in the room had gasped. Many of them got up and started towards her. She instinctively curled up into her shoulders and began retreating from the room. Arms suddenly wrapped around her waist and pulled her body flush against theirs. 

“Stop!” Neil cried. Natalie clung to the sleeves of his jacket instinctively. She buried her face in his neck, hoping to hide from the others. With a sigh, Neil had picked her up and held her close to him. He turned to face the others, _ his family _ , “Guys, this is Natalie. She’s-,” he hesitated. Natalie pried her face from his neck to look at him. She had been wrong. Neil’s eyes might have been the same color as Nathan’s but they definitely were not the same. They were hard and fearless. They were fierce and full of love. “She’s my baby sister,” he said more to her than to the others. Natalie didn’t remember much after that, probably because she was too busy crying into his shoulder. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wild Andrew appears!

It was a while before Natalie started getting better. It definitely started the day she’d let herself be taken to see Bee. Neil had done his best to convince her, but all his pleas fell on deaf ears. Natalie loved her brother, but the word physiatrist didn’t sound very inviting. 

“She’ll give you hot chocolate,” Andrew said. He and Natalie were sitting on the curb in front of the corner store eating ice-cream. Natalie wondered how he’d managed to convince Coach to let her out alone with him. Coach and Abby along with every Fox, but Neil, watched Andrew like a hawk whenever he was around her. She never really understood why. Andrew’s all-black outfits and gravelly voice made appear rather mean, but he had never hurt her. In fact, he made it a point to stay away from her. Andrew always kept Neil between them when they walked or simply stayed on the opposite end of the room. 

There had been exactly one time when Andrew had touched her. It was the day ‘the monsters’ had taken Natalie to the park. Natalie had been uneasy going, and Neil had picked up on it. It only drove him to insist they go. In exchange for doing so, he had promised to let her pick that night’s movie and spend the night in their room, too. They had arrived there and then almost immediately split up. Nicky had headed straight for the swings, dragging Kevin along with him. Aaron and Neil had gotten into a fight. The two had decided to settle it by racing through an obstacle course. Andrew plopped himself down on a bench and watched the mayhem unfold. A massive structure in the center of the playground had caught Natalie ’s attention. Nearing the structure, she saw that blue and red monkey bars crisscrossed to form a rocket. Natalie had been almost to the top, a good fifteen feet off the ground, when she’d missed a step and slipped between the bars. God knows why, but she’d been stupid enough to let go. Natalie closed her eyes, waiting for an impact that didn’t come. Instead, she found herself cradled in someone’s arms. She opened her eyes to find hazel eyes wide with fear, searching her for any sign of injury. By the time the others had gathered around, they had finished their inspection. She suddenly dropped the last two feet to the ground and fell hard on her butt. 

“What the hell, Andrew!” Nicky screeched when he’d dropped her. Natalie looked up to find that a bored expression had once again plastered itself to his face. She knew now that it was just a facade. It seemed that everyone but Neil had bought into it. It was probably why they kept such a close eye on him all the time. 

It had taken some doing, but Natalie found herself standing in Betsy Dobson’s office, clutching Andrew’s hand as her life depended on it. It took a few sessions for her to open up, but they got there eventually. Andrew had never once complained about having to go with her.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter! You've made it.

Nightmares were common for Natalie. She had spent the rest of the year with Abby and Jean. Whenever she woke, thrashing awake from a nightmare, Natalie began going through a list of good things. Bee had said that if she kept up the list, one day Natalie would find that the good things outweigh the bad. Her list of good things included: the sound of Neil’s voice, Allison’s make-up bag, Nicky’s ‘silly face’, the weightless feeling of Aaron and Katelyn swinging Natalie between the two of them, Wymack and Abby’s wide eyes whenever he accidentally cursed in front of Natalie, Kevin’s wild gesticulations while he taught her history, Dan and Matt’s laughter, and Jean’s bright pink ears when Renee first said ‘Je t’aime'. The day she added Andrew’s smile to the list was the first time she thought that maybe the good really could outweigh the bad. 

The day that finally tipped the scales in her favor was a summer morning. Natalie woke to sunlight streaming down on her face. Andrew lifted his head from the pillow he and Neil were sharing to give her the barest of glances. She offered him a small smile that widened as he laid his head back down beside her brother’s. She padded softly through the house. Nicky’s snores made her snicker. His breath hitched and she clamped her hands over her mouth. He mumbled something about his butt being ‘100% Erik Klose approved’ and turned over. It took everything in Natalie to stop her from bursting into a fit of laughter. She made it to the living room without any further incidents. The smell of coffee and soft voices greeted her. 

“Shit, she’s here,” Coach said. Natalie rounded the corner into the living room. Kevin, Abby, and Coach were all sitting hunched over the table. Coach and Abby looked a little worse for wear. Kevin looked like he hadn’t slept all night. 

“Nat,” he started and then stopped. He looked at Coach and then Abby. Abby put a hand atop Kevin’s first at him, and then Coach’s. “You know, you’re not half bad.”

“Kevin!” Abby snapped, exasperation evident in her tone. Kevin let his head fall into his hands with a groan. Silence reigned over the four of them for an endless minute. Finally, he stood and walked out. He motioned for Natalie to follow. He opened the front door and planted himself on the steps. Natalie sat down beside him. 

“I’m not very good at emotions,” he said in french. “They’re so… ugh.”

“Very ugh,” Natalie replied, hiding her smile. Her own french wasn’t as elegant as his, but she’d get there with time. 

“They want to adopt you,” Kevin said. Natalie felt her soul leave her body. It must have shown on her face because he immediately placed a hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to accept it. It’s just an offer. It would make putting you in school a lot easier. They could get you on the insurance plan and so on and so forth…” he trailed off. Quietly, he added, “And I mean.. wouldn’t mind having a sister like you.” Natalie flung her arms around Kevin. She felt him flinch in shock. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around her too. “Is that a yes?” he asked. 

“Keep asking stupid questions and I’ll change my mind,” she snapped. 

“You’re definitely Neil’s sister,” he said. 

“I’m about to be yours too,” she said. 

Home was not a place Natalie had ever really known. Natalie was seven years old, but even she knew that the Wesninski house had not been home. It had been a place for shady deals and dirty business. It had been a place with locks on every door and window. Locks might be enough to contain the people inside, but it had done nothing to contain their screams. 

The Foxhole Court too was a place for shady deals and dirty business. It was a place with locks on every door and window, but, rather than keeping people in, it kept the bad ones out. It was the place where her brothers taught her exy. It was the place she where her mom had proposed to her dad. It was the place she ran to when everything fell apart. It was the place where things finally went right. It was the place she called home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this sorry excuse for a story. You're the best and I hope cute people smile at you (smiling in the mirror should cover that one, actually). Have a good day and a great life. Thanks again <3


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